The journey of a roe

It was melting hot,

all it wanted was a drop,

cool fresh water on its petals,

just not to feel like heavy metal.

One withered petal fell to the floor.

then soon there was more.

The blood red petals began to die,

now the same colour as the sky.

Then the head fell to the floor,

just like a soldier after war

holding on for dear life,

like a stab wound on a knife.

Tonight we will hope and pray,

and tomorrow hopefully see rain.